


Spell [Inktober 2018]

by california_112



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Domestic Thursdays, ITV Endeavour, Inktober, Inktober 2018, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, Scrabble, Thursday family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 17:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16179575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/california_112/pseuds/california_112
Summary: Just after lunch one crisp October afternoon, DC Morse finally closed the file on the triple murder in Godstow. It had been a long case, and harrowing, but now it was over Morse took all pleasure in delivering the file to his superior's office.-or-Morse just has a couple of finishing details on the case for Thursday, meaning a stop by his house.ABSOLUTELY 0% SPOILERS FOR ANYTHINGThis is for Inktober 2018 - Thursday 4th October, Spell.





	Spell [Inktober 2018]

[Mood Music Because Why Not](https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=PmAFBU47tP4&feature=share)

* * *

 

Just after lunch one crisp October afternoon, DC Morse finally closed the file on the triple murder in Godstow. It had been a long case, and harrowing, but now it was over Morse took all pleasure in delivering the file to his superior's office. Unfortunately, DI Thursday wasn't in when the young detective called, but Morse's questions were answered when DS Strange entered the room, placing yet more paperwork on Thursday's desk.

  
          "He's gone home, matey," Strange said, nodding out the door, "about fifteen minutes ago."

          "How did I miss him?" Morse asked, returning to his desk to pick up his coat.

          "Head in your file as usual." Strange replied. "He said 'See you later' but you didn't hear."

Shrugging in confusion, Morse thanked Strange and left, planning to drop by the Inspector's on his way home and fill him in on the follow up. As he made his way through the tall Oxfordian streets, twilight began to gather, and the sky turned a brilliant shade of blue. By the time Morse reached Thursday's house, lights were glowing at windows, casting pools of orange glow on lawns and drives. It was very pretty, Morse thought, not looking forward to his own return to his dingy bedsit. No warming lights waited for him there. Knocking on the door, it was opened a short time later by the DI's daughter.

          "Morse? A bit late, isn't it?"

          "Miss Thursday," Morse nodded respectfully, "I wondered if I might have a quick word with your father."

Joan turned around and shouted "Dad! Morse!" up the stairs, earning the distant reply "One minute, love!", before turning back to the thin figure on the doorstep. "Well, come in then, he'll be more than a minute."

          "Really, I shouldn't-"

          "I can't just leave you on the doormat like a parcel, you'll freeze. In."

Feeling it would be rude not to, Morse stepped cautiously over the doorstep and placed himself next to the hat stand, feeling very out of place. Joan closed the door behind him, and disappeared into the sitting room. The house was quiet but not silent; a boiling kettle and the background murmur of a radio as well as voices closer at hand. Morse heard Joan's, and his name mentioned, before Win came into the hallway and looked around.

          "Morse! I almost mistook you for the hat stand, you're so thin!" Win said, walking over to him. "Go and get yourself settled in the living room, the kettle's almost boiled."

          "Mrs Thursday, I just came for-"

          "Win, dear. And, whatever you came for, you're here now, and you look like you need a hot drink."

Not able to think of any argument, Morse made his way to the living room and looked in from the doorway, not wanting to disturb. A scrabble board was set out on the floor, Sam and Joan sitting on the floor whilst their parent's tiles were balanced on sofa arms and coffee tables. Morse observed for a second, seeing Sam staring bored out of the window, Joan listening to the radio. Suddenly, Sam seemed to notice his presence.

          "Morse! Just the person we need!"

Morse started, then caught Joan's eye and moved a little further into the room. "Sam?"

          "Dad's taking ages on his go, can you go for him?"

          "But wouldn't that be ruining his-"

          "Oh Morse, you're probably better than him," Joan said, patting the sofa where the DI had been sitting, "and you're definitely better company."

Smiling awkwardly, Morse sat down, and looked at the tiles that he had to work with. Not very much, but that 'R' at the end of 'catcher' looked promising for-

          "Aerie?" Sam looked up at Morse, "That's not a real word."

          "It is, it means an eagle's nest which on on a cliff or somewhere high." Morse replied. "Look it up."

Sam got up to go for the dictionary, whilst Morse took more tiles and Joan rolled her eyes. Just outside the door, Win paused to look on the scene, a mug of hot tea in hand. Morse looked so fragile, sitting on the sofa, like someone sitting down heavily on the other end would shatter him. He must be cold, besides the strong heating in the Thursday house, he hadn't even taken off his coat. Behind her, she heard footsteps on the stairs, and turned to see her husband step into the hall, shirtsleeve and pyjama trouser clad.

          "Fred, your DC is in there!" Win said, putting the mug into his hands whilst she adjusted his collar. "At least look respectable."

          "What did he want then?" Fred asked, turning to look into the living room, and seeing the three of them re-engaged in the scrabble game.

          "A quick word, probably about the case." Win said. "Take his drink and find out."

Taking the mug hesitantly, Thursday went in and handed Morse the mug. Win followed him, sitting down at the board again.

          "Thank you, sir." Morse said, taking the mug awkwardly and cupping his hands around it, taking a sip.

          "Don't thank me, thank Win." Thursday nodded to his wife and sat down heavily on the sofa. "What did you want to talk about?"

Morse glanced around the room at Win, Joan and Sam, his look saying 'Don't you leave work by the hat stand?'.

          "Just this once." Thursday said, feeling for his pipe.

          "I closed the file on the triple murder," Morse said in a low voice, "and left in on your desk. Henlow got life, in court earlier."

          "Glad to hear it," Thursday said, "another one off the streets. Good work, Morse."

          "Just the job, sir." Morse looked away and sipped his tea.

Sam broke the silence. "Your go, Morse."

          "Morse taking my job, is he?" Thursday said jokingly, reaching for the tiles that Morse offered him.

          "You weren't here, and Morse was." Sam said. "Your last play was 'aerie'."

Seeing that the small room was quite full now, and Morse got up to take his empty mug back to the kitchen, awkwardly squeezing between Thursday ("Sorry, sir,") and Sam ("Sorry, Sam,") before going into the kitchen. Putting the mug down, he was about to return to the room when he thought Maybe he'd outstayed his welcome? He didn't quite know with the Thursdays, but he thought that seeing as they were having family time, maybe he should just slip out quietly, and-

          "Morse? Leaving already?"

Halfway to the door, Morse turned to see his DI framed in the doorway, smiling. "No need to go yet, I need you for the scrabble, with your crossword knowledge. Why not stay for dinner?" Wide eyed, Morse stared. He only had his cold, dark flat to go to, and a hot meal would be nice, but he'd stayed too long already, and-

          "It's steak pie," Mrs Thursday bustled through to the kitchen, "and I've always got extra."

Finally, Morse caved. If it would make Mrs Thursday happy, he would stay. "Thank you, Mrs. Thursday."

          "Win, dear. Get back to that scrabble now and take my place, the children'll wonder where you've got to."

And with that, Morse fumbled off his coat and returned to the living room, warmth, scrabble and three friendly faces guiding him in.

**Author's Note:**

> hhh that ending was Odd I'm sorry
> 
> Hey there! This is my first work in this fandom (that I've posted), but I've got more lined up for later this month, and something big planned for the future! Feel free to critique my work, I need all the advice I can get :) ~Cosmo
> 
> [Crossposted on Tumblr: @carryon-writing]


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